


Good Morning

by kayelem



Series: The Rebel Trevelyan [6]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Fluff, NSFW, Romance, Smut, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-13
Updated: 2016-12-13
Packaged: 2018-09-08 07:24:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8835553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kayelem/pseuds/kayelem
Summary: In which Cullen and the Inquisitor spend a little extra time in bed.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Follow up piece to Sleep Well. You don't need to read that first, but as always it is highly encouraged!
> 
> I have not written anything even SLIGHTLY smutty in a LONG TIME so please go easy on me.

**Good Morning**

**.**

**.**

 

Cullen couldn’t quite remember the last time he woke on his own terms.  For months nightmares and lyrium withdrawal pains had been making certain that he woke violently, jerking upright in a cold sweat, greedily gasping for breath with his blankets twisted about him.  In part, Cullen saw waking so suddenly to be something of a blessing because once he was awake, he was unable fall back asleep and so was able to get a head start on that day’s work.  And it didn’t matter how late he tried to stay awake, desperate to keep the nightmares at bay for as long as possible, it never failed that he was woken just as the sun was beginning to rise over Skyhold.

But this morning Cullen woke slowly and easily, stretching sleep from his muscles and cracks from his joints, turning to the other body occupying his bed.  Beau, who had fallen asleep nestled against Cullen, had turned away from him at some point in the night, halfway on her stomach with one arm nearly hanging off the edge of the bed. Despite the morning chill that permeated the loft through the haggard skylight Beau had kicked the blankets away from her, leaving them draped over and tucked between her knees.

Cullen just watched her for a moment, her face relaxed in sleep, free of all the stress and hard determination that creased the corners of her eyes during waking hours.  Bruises, scrapes and scars, that Cullen had never seen before and hadn’t been visible in the half light of the night before now stood out starkly against the landscape of her skin.  Sighing, Cullen couldn’t help himself when he reached out, resting the warm palm of his hand against her night-chilled skin, slowly mapping out the ragged, still healing scars on her legs and pale stretch marks on Beau’s outer hip with his fingertips.

_Mine_. 

The thought pushed to the forefront of his mind unbidden, and it stilled Cullen’s hand on the crest of Beau’s hip.  When had he started thinking of Beau as his? He pondered the idea as his hand continued its loving ministrations along her leg, as Cullen slowly realized that there was never one moment when he determined Beau was his.  Perhaps it had started with the very first devilishly charming smile Beau directed at him and the way that it had made Cullen’s chest feel strangely tight, or had it been when she stayed behind in Haven to buy them time…

Or perhaps Cullen hadn’t necessarily thought of Beau as _his_ , but rather that she was infinitely precious to him.

“You may want to stop.”

Cullen blinked, refocusing his gaze on Beau, half turned back toward him now with a lazy smile gracing her features, sleep still trying to weigh down her eyelids. He had not meant to wake her, but bearing witness to her tired stretching, hearing the soft mewling sounds Beau made as she rolled onto her back toward him… well, he couldn’t find it in him to regret it.  On the contrary, Cullen found that he wanted to greet every morning this way.

“Oh?”  he replied, purposefully continuing to caress her leg, relishing in the sight of goosebumps as they formed and the idea that _he_ was the cause. “And why is that?”

Beau didn’t answer immediately. Instead Cullen watched as her hand danced along the top of his thigh, following nearly the same path that his was taking along her leg.  He couldn’t suppress the shudder that trembled through him at the feel of her clever fingers tracing out patterns as they moved from his leg, to along his hip before moving to rake along his stomach.  Beau breathed a laugh when she felt the planes of his stomach clench beneath her fingertips.

“I told you that I was too tired to ravish you last night,”  she began, tone playful,  “but that is not the case this morning.”

Teasing or not, at Beau’s words the atmosphere seemed to shift suddenly, a weight in the air that hadn’t previously been there that made Cullen too aware of his beating heart and the way Beau’s eyes had darkened with intent.  The touches along Beau’s leg grew more firm as Cullen leaned over her until their noses barely brushed, and he could feel her every exhale break across his lips.  She lifted her head, tried to catch his mouth with hers, but Cullen dodged, brushed his lips along her pulse and the curve of her shoulder.

He felt more than heard her responding huff.  “Are you going to make me ask you to kiss me?” she wondered, almost breathless.

Smiling against her skin, Cullen replied,  “I may…”

Another huff.  “You know I hate that game.”

Beau shuddered when she felt Cullen’s chuckle break against the hollow of her throat, restlessly shifting her hips against the mattress, fingers curling and uncurling against his shoulders.  She was clearly not pleased with the sudden power shift, which just thrilled Cullen all the more.  “Then just ask for a kiss,” he said, all innocence.

Beau’s answer was immediate, a single breath-heavy word. “Never.”

But he had been hoping she’d say that.

“You are so stubborn…  have it your way then,”  Cullen told her.

He started slowly, mouth leaving warm, open kisses along Beau’s neck and collarbone, his hand moving from her thigh, to the outer curve of her hip and back again.  He relished in her constant fidgeting beneath him, trying to coax heavier touches from him, attempting to catch his mouth as he moved to the other side of her neck to lavish attention there.  It wasn’t long before Cullen had her arching into the curve of his body, her breathing heavy and uneven, quiet moans bitten off because he knew she didn’t want to give him the satisfaction.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Cullen knew they didn’t have very long before someone would come looking for him to begin that day’s laundry list of things to do, but he found that was a distant concern in comparison.  Pausing, he braved a look up from making his way down Beau’s chest, and Cullen’s breath caught taking in the sight of his Inquisitor splayed beneath him, languid and open, hair a wild mess behind her.   _Maker…_ what could he have possibly done right in his life to have her?  

He must have paused for longer than he intended because Beau lifted her head off the pillow to look at him, one eyebrow arched in question.  “Are you alright?”  she asked so very sweetly, the tips of her fingers brushing along his jaw where he hovered above her chest.

No.  No, he was not because Cullen did not know how to give voice to everything he wanted to tell her.  He needed her in a way that he had never needed anyone before her, spurned by something primal – something that Cullen thought the lyrium had smothered long ago.  But somehow Beau had found it, coaxed it, and Cullen, back to life with her charm, her wit, and her stubborn refusal to give up on him even when he had nearly given up on himself.

Cullen swallowed thickly.  “Yes, perfectly alright,” he replied, because he didn’t know how else to answer.

To avoid another question, Cullen went back to trailing warm kisses across Beau’s chest trying to convey in his touches what she had come to mean to him, his hand curving along the slope of her hip and waist, gathering the tunic she had slept in the previous night as he went.  He felt her breathing deepen as his hand ghosted over her ribs, shifting slightly away from what Cullen knew was a ticklish area, leaving him smiling as his thumb brushed the soft skin under her breast.  Wordlessly, Beau gently pushed Cullen away, giving her enough room to grab the end of the shirt to pull it up and over her head.  He watched eagerly as Beau blindly tossed the article away, pale hair settling around her shoulders leaving her bare but for her smalls.

It had been _so long_ since Cullen was with a woman, least of all one that could even compare to Beau and – _Maker she’s beautiful_ \- he didn’t know where to look first.  Years of training and acrobatics had carved Beau a lean, but powerful figure and any extra weight she may have carried before joining the Inquisition had melted away from weeks upon weeks of trekking through rough terrain and hard fought battles.  But Cullen dragged his gaze up her strong thighs, drank in the sight of the flare of her hips, over the flat of her stomach to small, prefect breasts with tight pink peaks.

Cullen’s hands twitched restlessly.  He wanted… to touch, to tease, and taste – Cullen wanted it more than he had ever wanted anything before, needed it even.  He wanted to pull her close, feel the warmth, the realness, of her skin against his, drag his teeth down the graceful column of Beau’s throat, swirl his tongue around the peak of her nipples just to hear the catch of her breath.  To feel the power of her thighs hooked over his hips, drawing him deeper into the embrace of her body.

He desperately needed to know what Beau looked like as she was wrung of all pleasure.

“Cullen?”

Cullen shook his head at the feel of Beau’s fingers once again on his jaw, suddenly so terribly aware that he had yet to say anything to the beautiful woman sprawled across his bed like the best Santinalia present he had ever received. But Beau didn’t look uncomfortable, or suddenly nervous, just arched an eyebrow at him and bit her lip like the minx she was.  He watched, captivated as Beau reclaimed her hand tracing her fingertips over the edge of a shoulder, lightly across the ridge of her clavicle, between the valley of her breasts down to her navel – teasing him without laying a finger on him.

“Are you just going to stare at me?”

He swallowed, throat suddenly tight and dry.  “I don’t… I want…” _anything.  Everything you’re willing to give me.  Maker help me, I love you.  I love you._ But the words wouldn’t form, cramming in his throat to the point that he felt like they were choking him.  Cullen mentally cursed himself for his stumbling. Maker, he was such a _idiot_.  If Beau didn’t realize that he didn’t deserve her, surely she would now in the face of his ineptitude.

But Beau just breathed a quiet laugh, slender hands coming up to cup the sides of his face.  Her thumbs stroked his cheekbones as she drew Cullen’s face to hers, green eyes dancing between his until her lips barely brushed his. “You’re thinking too much,” she said, smiling gently. “Don’t think, just… touch.”

Cullen took a deep breath, forcing everything from his mind except for Beau.  He focused on the corners of her smile, the flutter of her eyelashes and the freckles on her nose.  The tantalizing length of her body pressed against him, and the softness of her skin beneath his calloused hands.

He let his hand caress down her side, growing bolder as he brushed the top of her hip to the inside of her thigh. Beau’s head fell back against the pillow with a sigh as Cullen brazenly pushed past the top of her cotton smalls, massaging his way through the coarse curls to her folds, and biting back a groan when he felt her slick with arousal.  Cullen dragged his fingers lazily along her slit, utterly fascinated as he watched Beau’s breath catch in her chest, and the quiet moan that escaped her lips making him painfully aware of his erection straining against the fabric of his breeches.  He had to resist the urge to press his hips into her thigh to seek some kind of friction – Cullen was not going to make this about him.

Cullen tilted his head down, seeking out the peak of a breast, swirling his tongue around her nipple.  Beau gasped, arching into him and driving her fingers into his mussed curls to hold him closer as her hips canted into his hand. Her enthusiastic reactions made him brave, and his fingers moved with more confidence along the wet heat of her.  Beau writhed against his hand, breathing hard and heavy punctuated by soft moans, and the bite of short fingernails along the back of Cullen’s neck and shoulders.

He pushed his middle two fingers into the soft, wet heat of her, groaning against Beau’s neck at the way her body welcomed the intrusion.  She ground her hips against the heel of his hand, seeking the pressure she needed with Cullen all too happy to accommodate her.  Pressing harder, Cullen curled his fingers inside her and circling his wrist as the movement of Beau’s hips started to become frantic and her breathing turned into a series of sharp intakes.  

Cullen thought Beau was absolutely breathtaking when she came.  Her thighs suddenly clamped around his hand, he felt her inner walls flutter against his fingers, and relished the almost painful grip of her hands as they clawed his shoulders.  She didn’t cry out as loudly as he expected, but a keening moan seemed to claw its way out of her throat as her head fell back.  A pink flush bloomed all along her chest as she shuddered under the force of her climax, back arching off the mattress. With his free hand, Cullen cupped Beau’s face, pressing his lips against her forehead as her body went limp in her afterglow and he removed his hand from between her thighs.  

When her breathing returned to normal, Beau opened her eyes, blinking up at him as a slow smile spread across her lips.  She didn’t say anything, just _looked_ at him and Cullen could feel himself grow anxious.

“Was that… was it…” he trailed off, swallowing hard.

Beau’s smile shifted into a smirk as she raised herself up onto her elbows to bring her face nearer to his. “Perfect,” she whispered, pressing her forehead to his.

Beau reached for him then, her hands spread across the back of his shoulders as she pulled him down with her.  Cullen smiled, breathed a relieved sigh as he followed her settling himself into the cradle of her legs, all uncertainty gone when his still clothed length pressed against the wetness between her thighs.  Her hand moved between them, cupping him through his trousers as his hips tilted to meet the touch, a curse muffled into the curve of her shoulder when she firmly stroked him.

He felt her hands along the waist of his trousers, teasing as she pushed them from his hips and –

A door downstairs opened and the resounding crash against the wall startled them both.  

“Commander?”

Cullen groaned, collapsing against Beau beneath him, the call of duty effectively reminding him that they could not stay in his loft all day.  Beau was undaunted by the interruption, though she laughed as her fingers grazed along his back, tracing the dip of his spine and reaching to give his ass a cheeky squeeze.

“Ignore him,” she insisted playfully, pressing her mouth against his pulse, licking her way up to nibble on his ear.

“I wish I could,” he replied, cutting off his moan.  

Beau flopped her arms down with a dramatic sigh and when Cullen raised himself onto his hands, there was a childish pout scrunching her expression.  “You’re no fun.”

Cullen felt himself raise an eyebrow.  “You seemed to have been having fun a few minutes ago,” he countered with a haughty smile.

He didn’t think it was possible for Beau to flush any deeper, but to his absolute delight she did. She opened her mouth to reply, no doubt with a witty retort of her own but -  “Commander!?”

He felt his jaw clench.  “I’ll be down in a moment! Wait outside!”  Just as the door was closing, Cullen told Beau, “I’m going to send him to the Hissing Wastes, I swear.”

Beau laughed as Cullen pushed himself up and off the bed to begin dressing.  “No one deserves that.”

Cullen felt the frustration in his movements as he got dressed, erection throbbing painfully as he did so.  He knew they could have taken a few extra minutes to lose themselves in one another, and the thought almost had Cullen turning back towards the bed where Beau watched him contentedly.  But Cullen knew that if he did turn and take her, hard and quick, however enjoyable as it may have been… he would have regretted it.  He was not a filthy beast content to take his pleasure wherever he could, no matter how eagerly Beau would have received him.

She deserved more, better. Their first time together should not be fast and desperate, it should be soft and heated, every moment and movement filled with passion. And Cullen was determined to make sure that the first time he made love to Beau, she would know just how much he loved her.

“So…” Beau drawled, drawing Cullen from his reverie.  He turned, finding her lounging on her side, head propped up by her hand.  “You still haven’t kissed me.”

He felt himself smirk as he closed the distance to the bed, utterly satisfied with the way her eyes darkened.  When he reached her, Cullen leaned down toward her, brushing hair lovingly back from her face.  Beau angled her head toward him, mouth parting in expectation for the press of his mouth against her own while her eyes fluttered closed.  

When he spoke, his lips brushed against Beau’s teasingly.  “I don’t recall you asking for a kiss.”


End file.
